


Peppermint

by FelidArachnid



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Crush at First Sight, F/M, First Meetings, i dunno man i just wanted to practice writing Junkrat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 04:30:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7419811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FelidArachnid/pseuds/FelidArachnid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's something about Symmetra, and he can't quite put his finger on it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peppermint

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to try something outside of my comfort zone, and also try writing Junkrat's perspective so I'm not sure how I did!! Anyway just more of me messing about I hope it's ok -w-

For the majority of his working life, Junkrat had eked out a fairly simple, if slightly volatile, existence. In the outback it was kill or be killed; salvage or toss; eat or starve. His approach to novel stimuli was simple – was it useful? Was it dangerous? If the answer to these was no, he left it alone. Thus he survived on a strange combination of a junker’s curiosity mingled with an animalistic simplicity, and it had done him well so far. 

As a result, joining Overwatch had caused a bit of a culture shock, to say the least. He was suddenly thrown into a melting pot of people where everything was so _subtle_ and his logic no longer held true. His first hurdle had been the keycards Winston had issued to him and Roadhog. Despite Winston’s patient and careful demonstration, swiping the little plastic rectangle against the door, Junkrat was somewhat disconcerted. “So what do I do with it now?”

Winston pushed his spectacles up his nose, bewildered. “I – I beg your pardon?”

Irritated, Junkrat waggled the card between two mechanical fingers. “It open anyfing else?”

“Just your room – and the bathrooms, and the mess hall,” explained Winston in a long-suffering tone.

“Hm.” Junkrat and Roadhog bent in close to the card together. “So that’s it? Should I chuck it?”

“No!” blustered Winston, making an odd involuntary movement as though to grab the card off him. “You will need it to get in and out! And losing it would be a breach of security, you must not – ”

That had been the first puzzle. To Junkrat, the card was useless. What could he do with a tiny piece of plastic? Why didn’t they just let the doors sit unlocked? Heck, what was wrong with just leaping the walls or scrambling in through a window? Roadhog, however, had quietly pocketed his without argument and Junkrat peevishly did the same.

He’d never been anywhere so clean and pleasant, either. Everything back home was dusty, filthy, and came in varying shades of yellow, orange and brown. He and Roadhog had once found a white and green plush toy, and fought over it for days, until they lost it trying to wash it in a pitiful mountain stream. Here, _everything_ was white, blue, grey, and shiny, silver, _neat_. Even the people looked different – the first time he’d encountered Mercy in the corridor, he’d followed her for several minutes, fascinated by this beautiful, pristine woman with her soft yellow hair and crisp clean uniform. It was only when Pharah flung an arm into his path and demanded to know why he was heading into the woman’s showers that he stopped, stared at her rudely for several seconds, and then scuttled away to tell Roadhog that the women here were both fine looking and frightening, and didn’t like you walking a certain way. 

To his growing irritation, Roadhog seemed to take it all in his massive stride. Admittedly the older junker was more world-weary and savvy than Junkrat, but this side of his bodyguard unnerved him, and there were times when Junkrat wondered if Roadhog was going soft. He’d only dared to voice this once, however, and was rewarded with a punch to the throat that had hurt for days afterwards. Secretly, Junkrat knew that it was not the ease with which Roadhog settled in that bothered him; it was his confidence in his own knowledge. His greater experience allowed Roadhog to look upon Overwatch with silence and accept it all as it was, and in turn be accepted, albeit with some misgivings. 

Junkrat, on the other hand, felt twitchy and constantly on edge. It took some time before he began to stop seeing everything as a potential threat, and even longer to get used to the idea of things being more than just useful or useless. 

Some, such as television, he took to with great enthusiasm. Others, such as bubble baths, he tried once and then staunchly refused to go near ever again. 

He was very lucky to have forged tentative friendships with Tracer and Lucio, who seemed eager to introduce him to as much as they could, and demonstrated surprising patience with concepts that he had trouble grasping. 

This was most evident when Junkrat was first offered the chance to brush his teeth.

It was early in the morning, and he was staring bemusedly down at Lucio, who was waggling a tube of toothpaste in his face. “C’mon dude, it’s not gonna bite ya.”

Junkrat sniffed. “What’s that _smell_?” It made his eyes smart slightly, but although cold was not entirely unpleasant. 

“Toothpaste? It’s just peppermint,” said Lucio, shrugging. “You want me to show you or not?”

Suspiciously, he watched as Lucio squeezed the white paste onto his brush and shoved it into his mouth, grinning through a mouth of foam. The smell got stronger. 

Curiosity got the better of him, and he licked a small blob off the end of the tube. 

Lucio spluttered with laughter at the sight of Junkrat’s face as he screwed it up in discomfort, smacking his teeth. “Ergh!”

It was like nothing he’d ever tasted – it was sharp and initially almost unpleasant, and bizarrely cold yet spicy. He’d never tasted anything that made your mouth feel cold and hot at the same time, but as the taste subsided it left a surprising lingering sweetness that was actually not too bad. 

He blinked at the toothbrush Lucio held up hopefully, and wrinkled his nose. “ – nah mate, I’ll pass.”

He was still working his head around the idea of peppermint several hours later. He’d mentioned it to Roadhog at once, but Roadhog had merely shrugged and indicated the peppermint teabags at the lunch buffet table, and continued eating (Junkrat surreptitiously stole a few of these and tried to eat them in his room later). 

The following day, Junkrat and Roadhog had been accorded the honour of attending one of Winston’s debriefings. Although they themselves were not to be dispatched for this mission, Winston felt it was important for them to ‘see the inner workings of Overwatch’ and ‘become acquainted with the team’ and other such bollocks – or so Junkrat thought, picking his nose in disinterest at the corner of the room. 

The woman next to him arched one eyebrow and looked away. 

He sneered back and scratched at one armpit. What a waste of his time. 

“Please keep still,” she hissed through her teeth, her eyes flickering to one side once more. 

“Can’t,” he muttered back, shifting in his seat. “How much longer is this gonna take?”

Her lips thinned and she exhaled through her nose. “Ten more minutes, by my estimations.”

Curiously, he stared at her as he dug a finger into one ear. Over time he was slowly becoming acquainted with the many members of Overwatch, and he’d spotted her once or twice in the mess hall, but had never spoken to her or indeed ever been this close to her. Her face had an arresting beauty, and he admired the way her rich dark skin threw back the cold blue light of the room. Although she sat very still, there was a tautness in her posture that suggested her mind was whirring at a million miles an hour. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught him staring, but merely sniffed and pretended not to notice. 

For the next few weeks he continued to notice her; he couldn’t help himself. He’d gradually endeared himself to a majority of the team, and would regularly participate in loud, jovial discussion in the mess hall but Symmetra was always aloof, out of reach. Something about her crisp cold demeanour fascinated him. He supposed it was part of his new perspective on things; Overwatch had shown him a new side of life, where things were not just _good_ and _bad_ ; things could both. The keycards were useful, but also inherently useless. Winston was an animal, but also a person. Peppermint was sharp and cold, but paradoxically pleasant and sweet. 

After some time he’d given up on trying to strike up another conversation with Symmetra; he thought he’d largely gotten the measure of her. 

Until the morning of his first mission, as he sat buckled into the ship, restlessly juggling his gun in his lap. Roadhog was silent and immovable to his left, and Symmetra was sat opposite, peacefully gazing out of the window. Junkrat, agitated and somewhat nervous, had made a poor joke and attempted an awkward grin, to which Roadhog merely grunted in acknowledgement. 

But then he caught Symmetra’s movement, and he realised she was chuckling quietly to herself, a warm and genuine smile gracing her elegant features. Remoteness suited her, but laughter suited her even more. Thrown completely off guard, he could only manage a clumsy shrug and a smile back, but inside he felt an intense tingling and warmth flooding his cheeks. 

The moment passed, and she returned to staring out the window, although the smile had not entirely left the corners of her lips, and Junkrat was left to sit in silence, occasionally stealing glances at her when he thought she wouldn’t notice. Yes, she was icy and even a little harsh at face value but once that faded there was an apparent warmth and sweetness that suddenly seemed very appealing. 

He ran his tongue against the inside of his teeth, and couldn’t work out why the idea of her taste seemed so familiar.


End file.
